


Waiting for the Dawn (Ignis Scientia x Reader)

by inconsistencys



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 03:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12832698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inconsistencys/pseuds/inconsistencys
Summary: Like anyone, you find yourself feeling unwanted, waiting for the darkness to fade and the sun to rise. However, Ignis is always around to pull the light over the horizon himself.





	Waiting for the Dawn (Ignis Scientia x Reader)

He always knew exactly what to say.

On the good days, he sent you questions. He asked how you’d spent the afternoon. He let you speak, closing his eyes to memorize the excitement in your voice as you told him about the kind woman who spoke to you on the train, or the friendly dog that showered you in affection at the park. These were Ignis’s favorite times, when your eyes sparkled and the smile couldn’t leave your face if it tried. He wanted _all_ of your days to be this wonderful. More than anything, he wanted you to be happy, always.

On the bad days, he let you be silent. Meals would be larger, and he would fill your quiet home with stories from his adventures. Oftentimes, he would speak of the city on the sea, weaving waterfalls with his words and building palaces from syllables. He spun tales of a king battling the gods, of _himself_ fighting the darkness, and he always ended them with a sunrise. Bringing a hand to your cheek, he described the feeling of dawn, of a new day climbing over the horizon after ten years spent at night.

 _“The sun will always come back up, darling,”_ his mouth would find yours for a moment. Warm. Sweet. The scar on his bottom lip brushing against your skin. _“You need only be patient.”_

At his words, your fragility would become evident. Tears would flood your vision, dripping from your eyelashes before he had the chance to catch them. Trembling, your voice escaped you, jumbles of sentences spilling from your lips in jagged fragments. His fingertips would find yours, gently, carefully tangling them together as he caught your words. One by one, he would piece your sorrows together, humming in quiet understanding. _I’m here,_ he would coo, _I understand._

He loved you, but on the worst days, you didn’t believe him.

His stories were nothing but fairy tales, told to children in an effort to send them to sleep at bedtime. His kisses were too pure to be yours, his voice too smooth to send you his love. He wasn’t yours, not _really_. Over untouched plates, you would shout your fears with shaking hands. _How could he– how could anyone want you?_

Silently, he would sit, milky eyes staring at you, sadness clear through his cloudy gaze. He always waited for you to finish, giving you time to empty your thoughts into the room.

“Y/N,” he would say, his voice nearly a whisper, “Surely you know that isn’t true.”

 _“I love you,”_ carefully, he would go to you. Hesitantly, his hands would find your waist, _“I will **always** love you.”_

Your thoughts would flee to tales of a prince leaving the world in darkness. In your mind, you found new endings to the story. There was no ring to summon the power of old kings. There was no chosen hero. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and there was no prophecy to carry it back out.

“What if,” painfully, you dragged the words from your throat, _“What if dawn doesn’t come?”_

 _“For you,”_ he pulled you in close, his head resting atop your own as he gave you his promise, _“I would go to retrieve it myself.”_

Slowly, you nodded, swaying in the warmth of his embrace. Silence had found you once again, only to be broken by the soft, low voice of your lover.

_“I love you. I love you. I love you.”_


End file.
